


I'm Sorry; Please Forgive Me

by Trickster_Angel



Series: Flowers Choke My Lungs [2]
Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Anxiety Disorder, Depression, Grief/Mourning, Hanahaki Disease, Heavy Angst, Hospitals, Hurt No Comfort, Ice Skating, M/M, Panic Attacks, Suicide, This one's really heavy, Unrequited Love, take the illness stuff with a grain of salt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-26
Updated: 2017-10-09
Packaged: 2019-01-05 15:09:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 5
Words: 15,044
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12192312
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Trickster_Angel/pseuds/Trickster_Angel
Summary: Viktor promised Yuuri that he would win in the Grand Prix. And despite the challenges facing him, Yuuri tries.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> **Author's Note Please Read:** I have tagged major character death in this fic but it's going to be _very_ heavy. Please read the tags and keep them in mind while deciding whether or not to read this fic. Just don't say I didn't warn you.

Yuuri came back from the hospital numb. He just couldn’t think. It couldn’t be true. Viktor wasn’t dead. He couldn’t be.

He went into his room and locked the door. He didn’t unlock it for three days. He couldn’t eat, couldn’t sleep, could barely breathe, too consumed with grief to function.

For days, people came to his door. His mother offered food, his father asked him to help out with chores. Makkachin pawed at the door, whining. After the first day, the knocks became more desperate. Mari yelled at him from the other side of the door, telling him to open up. Yuuko begged him to come out. He was pretty sure she was crying on the other side. Takeshi asked him to leave, to come back to the rink. He knew it cheered him up. The triplets tried to bait him out with videos and news about the ice skating world. Minako tried to lecture him out of the room. But Yuuri didn’t care. He stayed inside with nothing but his phone. He felt numb. He felt dead.

On the third day, they finally broke the lock on the door. Yuuri’s mother stepped inside first. “Yuuri?” She gasped in horror.

Yuuri coughed into his hand. He was surrounded by purple petals.

* * *

On the first day, Yuuri just stared at the ceiling. Any time he closed his eyes, he was back in that blank room. He watched Viktor die over and over again.

“He’s been in love with you. Now he’s dying because of you!” He heard Yuri’s voice, accusing him of Viktor’s murder over and over again. He was responsible for Viktor Nikiforov’s death. He couldn’t sleep. He could barely breathe. It felt like a hand was choking him, closing around his throat.

Yuuri’s heart started racing. He couldn’t breathe. He put his fingers on his throat, confirming that there was no hand there. He felt like he was going to be sick.

Yuuri rolled onto his side, bringing his knees to his chest. He wasn’t dying; it was just a panic attack. He whimpered a little. His stomach hurt. His throat was closing up. It felt sore. He was shaking. Adrenaline consumed him. It hurt.

He hated this. Not only was he unable to save Viktor, he couldn’t even save himself from his own mind. Here he was, having a panic attack in bed, and Viktor was dead, choked to death by flowers in his lungs.

He lay on his side for a while before sitting up. His stomach heaved in discomfort and Yuuri swore he was going to throw up. But he didn’t.

Someone was crushing his throat but no one was there. He stood up, walked around the room, try to dispel some of his restless energy. If he was being fed adrenaline, he might as well use it for something. He took deep breaths, remembering some of the exercises he had been taught but it did no good. They never worked for him.

He stayed like that, feeling miserable, for hours. There was no cure; he just had to wait it out. The sun was shining when it finally went away. But despite the amount of energy he’d burned up panicking, he didn’t feel exhausted. He could sleep for hours after a panic attack but he felt no need to. He felt so tired, but more of a drained, mentally weary tired. Physically, he felt like shit but he couldn’t sleep. It hurt too much to think of Viktor.

* * *

On the second day, Yuuri did research. He watched the press conference when Viktor announced that he was taking a break from skating. Yuri’s explanation made sense. Yuuri watched Viktor cough into a tissue and then plaster a fake smile on his face. Yuuri knew it was fake; it didn’t even come close to reaching his eyes. They were tired, emotionless, dead. Of course, this was shortly after he had been kicked off the ice by his coach. Of course he’d be miserable.

Why did he do it? Why did he choose Yuuri over skating? It was his career, his passion. Yuuri couldn’t mean that much to him.

He watched Viktor at the Grand Prix final. He was amazing. He was always amazing. When Viktor took to the ice, he was the star and no one could look away. His routines were flawless, his jumps graceful, his form perfect. He was a legend, a figure skating god. And now he was gone.

Yuuri watched another interview, shortly after the Grand Prix final. It was standard fare, nothing unusual. The interviewer asked him questions about his routines, his inspiration, his future plans. Viktor answered nonchalantly, like he’d done this a million times before. And he had. And Yuuri had seen it all.

Yuuri’s vision was blurring. He hadn’t even realized that he’d started crying but he had. He loved hearing Viktor’s voice. Just days before, he’d sounded so alive. Yuuri hadn’t even noticed the coughing. He had to have been coughing; one doesn’t reach late stage Hanahaki without the constant need to cough. Which meant Viktor had been hiding it.

Why hadn’t he just been honest with Yuuri? Was that why he acted the way he did? And Yuuri shut him down at every turn. He ran away when Viktor wanted to get close. He could barely speak to the man and he was in love with him? Yuri had to be wrong. It seemed impossible but Viktor was dead, his unrequited love had killed him.

Yuuri couldn’t play another video. His heart couldn’t stand it anymore. He felt sick. The tears fell in earnest and Yuuri couldn’t stop himself from sobbing. Viktor was gone. He was never going to skate again. There would be no more interviews, no more Grand Prix finals, nothing. There would be a funeral and then Viktor would be gone. Yuuri coughed, trying to catch his breath through his crying.

Viktor didn’t deserve to die that way. But Yuuri did.

* * *

On the third day, Yuuri coughed. He didn’t know why. His throat hurt a bit but he didn’t think too much of it. Sometimes he got sick. The weather had changed pretty fast so maybe that was why he had a cold. So he didn’t think anything of it when he coughed.

But when he coughed and a petal fell out of his mouth, he just looked at it blankly. It was a deep violet color, long and thin, with veins shooting up the middle. He coughed again and another one joined the first.

He had Hanahaki too, it seemed. After everything, after knowing Viktor only for a week, Yuuri had fallen in love. No, it couldn’t have been during the week. It was after. Once Viktor was dead, he mourned the person he’d lost. All those videos he had watched, he felt like he got to know Viktor. The flirty, ridiculous beautiful man he was. Yuuri was in love with Viktor Nikiforov and the man was buried in the ground.

Yuuri coughed and realized that he was going to die.

* * *

Yuuri was just completely dissociated from reality. They got him into the main room, sitting down at a table with a large pork cutlet bowl in front of him. Yuuri stared down at his legs. He blinked slowly, not saying anything. This had to be some sort of dream. A terrible dream where he’d wake up and Viktor would be alive and healthy and Yuuri wouldn’t have Hanahaki either. Or maybe Viktor would be back in Russia, training for Worlds and Yuuri’s life would go back to normal. It didn’t matter. So long as Viktor was alive.

“Yuuri, you need to eat,” his mother said gently. He didn’t respond. He barely felt alive. Was he alive too? Or did he die when Viktor did? Was he gone already? Had the Hanahaki taken him too? Was the screech of the flatline his own heart or Viktor’s? He wasn’t sure. If he was alive, he must not need to eat. After all, it had been three days and he wasn’t hungry.

“Yuuri, please, eat something,” his father insisted. He didn’t know how to respond. He just stared down and didn’t say anything.

“Yuuri, come on,” his sister said, “Snap out of it. Say something.” He’d never heard her sound more concerned.

Makkachin whined and put his head in Yuuri’s lap, as if asking to be pet.

He coughed, purple petals falling into the bowl.

“Yuuri.” He didn’t know who said it. It didn’t matter.

* * *

Yuuri felt like a ghost haunting his family home. Everyone was so careful with him, like he was made of glass. They had to remind him to do basic daily tasks. He’d started eating again but just barely. Well, Viktor had said he needed to lose weight in order to complete this season. It was going to happen, one way or another.

It took a week. He mourned Viktor for a week before he tried to start acting normally again. He started to help out with the inn. He went back to Ice Castle Hatsetsu and skated. Not much, just some laps around the ice, but it helped. He’d wanted to show Viktor how good he was. The first time Viktor had watched him, he’d been so nervous that he’d done terribly. And Viktor had still looked at him with a smile. It couldn’t have been love, could it?

Yuuri coughed into his hand, putting the petal in his pocket. He had never heard of Hanahaki coming on so fast. He knew he needed to go to the doctor to appease his family. But he knew what they’d say. He had Hanahaki Disease and they’d probably give him a time limit. Since it had started so quickly, he’d probably have even less time than Viktor. If Yuuri had to guess, he probably had two.

“Yuuri!” Yuuri turned to see Yuuko watching him. She wasn’t smiling. He skated over to where she was. Over the wall of the rink, she threw her arms around his neck. “I’m so sorry, Yuuri. He was so young. It’s a tragedy.”

“I killed him, Yuuko,” he whispered to her. The tears were already forming. They stung at his eyes and threatened to fall.

“What?” she pulled back, keeping Yuuri at arm’s length. She looked into his eyes. “Yuuri, he was sick. There was nothing anyone could do.”

“He had Hanahaki Disease,” Yuuri said, “He was in love with me. He had been for months. I killed him, Yuuko. It’s my fault he’s dead.”

“Yuuri, that’s not true,” she insisted and he grabbed her this time. The tears were falling in earnest now. She wrapped her arms around him again and he could hear her crying too. “It’s no one’s fault he’s gone now.”

“Mom!”

Yuuri couldn’t stop it, he coughed over her shoulder.

The petal fell to the ground before he could grab it.

“Mom?” He didn’t look but he heard the triplets approaching. “Yuuri?”

“Yes, girls?” Yuuko said, letting go of Yuuri to tend to her children. He backed up went to the exit.

He was reattaching his skate guards when the girls spoke. “They were showing clips of Viktor’s funeral.”

“What’s this doing here?” Yuuko asked. Yuuri looked up and saw Yuuko inspecting the petals that had fallen.

“Yuuri coughed them up,” the triplets said, pointing to him. He flinched at the accusation but didn’t do anything about it. He didn’t attempt to run and just stood there and Yuuko walked over to him.

“You’re sick too,” she said.

“I have it too,” Yuuri agreed.

“Oh, Yuuri,” she said sadly, “Who is it?”

“Viktor.” She hugged him again.

“Mom?”

“Don’t die, Yuuri. Please don’t die!” She was sobbing over his shoulder.

Yuuri thought he would be crying but he wasn’t. The triplets were looking at them both, confused, but he wasn’t moving. He just felt numb, unable to react. He didn’t say anything.

* * *

“Considering how early you said you started coughing up petals, I’m amazed at how slow your progression is,” the doctor said. Yuuri had to take chest x-rays, which currently sat in front of him. His lungs barely showed signs of the disease, a stem here, a flower there. Certainly not healthy but not as bad as he was expecting. But Yuuri doubted he would come back. His family was spending a lot of money on his health, considering what he planned to do.

“If I had to guess, you probably have six months to live, give or take,” the doctor said. Longer than Yuuri expected. He would be suffering for longer but that was fine.

“We have the option of surgery,” the doctor said, “I understand you will want to try and have your love reciprocated and that’s fine. You’re still in the very early stages. But I wouldn’t leave this more than three months if you want the surgery.”

“Thank you,” Yuuri said. He didn’t want to discuss it further.

“One more thing,” the doctor said, “The flowers growing in your lungs are hyacinths. I thought you’d like to know.”

“Thank you,” Yuuri repeated.

He left the doctor’s office and coughed into his elbow. It was nearing May and the snow from the early days of the month had already disappeared. Flowers were poking their way out of the ground. The earth was coming back to life. And Viktor was gone. His body was buried beneath the blossoming flowers and here Yuuri walked above them. How dare he.

He wanted Viktor back. He wanted Viktor to nag him about skating. Even if he was cruel, he’d be alive. He wanted to see Viktor skate again. He wanted to hear his voice, to bathe with him, to be near him. His heart was beating so fast. He just wanted Viktor back. He’d trade places with him if he could.

But he couldn’t. No matter what Yuuri did, Viktor was dead and he was never going to skate again.

Yuuri couldn’t bring Viktor back to life but he could pay him back. He could give him his life too. But first, Yuuri had a promise to fulfill. He was going to get a gold medal at the Grand Prix final. And he was going to do it for Viktor.

* * *

Yuuri knew Minako was at her studio at this time of day. And he was right; she was teaching a class. Six little girls and two little boys were at the barre, as Minako looked over all of them, inspecting their form and gently correcting them. Yuuri couldn’t help but smile. They reminded him of himself. He’d been there many years ago.

He stayed outside until the class let out. Once all the children had been picked up by their parents, he walked in.

“Oh, Yuuri,” she said with a smile, “What brings you here?”

“Minako,” he started, “I’m going to keep skating.”

“Yuuri, that’s wonderful,” she said, “I’m glad you’re not letting Viktor’s passing stop you.”

“But I don’t have a coach,” he said, “And I’m sick.”

Her smile disappeared immediately. Yuuri’s family had been keeping it quiet. So far, only his family and the Nishigori family knew. But he wanted to tell her.

“You’re sick? What’s wrong, Yuuri?”

“I have Hanahaki Disease. I’m in love with Viktor,” he explained, “Please, Minako. Be my coach for my last season. I don’t know how far I’ll get but I need your help.”

“Yuuri.” He could hear her disapproval in her voice. “This doesn’t have to be the end for you.”

“I’ve already made up my mind,” he said, “Viktor gave up his life for me. The least I can do is give up mine for him.”

“Yuuri, he’s dead,” Minako said. It was so unlike her to be so quiet. “He doesn’t need your life.”

“Please be my coach,” Yuuri reiterated, “You know enough about figure skating to help me along. I will choreograph my own routines. But I need your help. Please.”

She inhaled deeply, pondering his decision. Yuuri’s heart raced in anticipation. He needed a coach and she was the only person he could ask.

“Okay, Yuuri. I’ll be your coach. Make sure you get a medal at the Grand Prix Final.” She was smiling at him but it didn’t quite reach her eyes.

Yuuri smiled back at her. Finally, things were turning around.

* * *

Yuuri was glad to be back out on the ice. It hurt in more ways than one but he wanted to fight through it. He wanted to put some meaning in his life and this, he was sure, was it. Fulfill the purpose that Viktor had traveled to Japan for and then he could die in peace.

His lungs burned after every practice and he was coughing all the time. The petals just kept coming up. Yuuko told Yuuri that she had to explain his disease to her daughters but when they asked about his surgery, she couldn’t answer them. Yuuri didn’t answer her either.

He wanted to be honest with Minako but he hadn’t told anyone else about his decision. And it was early enough that no one was suspicious yet. His family wasn’t asking too many questions besides referring to his general comfort. The media didn’t know he was sick and he wanted to keep it that way as long as possible. The doctor said he had six months. The first events started in September. And that was four months away. He didn’t know how well off he’d be then but he was going to try.

His practice kept him busy. As promised, he had to choreograph his own routines, which took a lot of work. He’d never done it before so he was going slowly. Minako had her own advice, as well as the Nishigori family, but ultimately, Yuuri had to make his own choices. And he needed music to skate to. He had one song, something a friend had composed for him years ago. It was a weak piece but he had nothing else. Besides, it fit him pretty well now. A weak piece to suit a weak skater and a weak person.

He’d named the piece “Yuuri on Ice”. And the routine was coming along slowly but it was coming. He had only one quad he could land effectively and he didn’t want to stray too far from what he knew. So he and Minako agreed, an aggressive step sequence, lower difficulty jumps later in his program, and two quads, both the toe loop. It wasn’t a high technical difficulty program but Yuuri could do it well, which would get him points. He could always make it harder the further into the season he went.

As for his short program, he was at a loss. He didn’t know any music that would suit it. Eventually, Minako brought him a piece she thought would work. Without any other ideas, he took it. That program was similar to the free program. Low difficulty jumps with an emphasis on presentation. Yuuri knew he could do it. He would get into the Grand Prix final with this. If his love didn’t kill him first.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading. I will update on Mondays and Thursdays until completion. Please leave a comment or kudos if you enjoyed it.


	2. Chapter 2

Phichit was the one who called him. Yuuri hadn’t realized just how out of touch he’d been the past few weeks until Phichit texted him. _Hey. Got a moment to Skype?_

Yuuri texted back in a hurry. _Sure._

Phichit called him after a minute. Yuuri didn’t recognize the rink behind him. “Yuuri, it’s been a while since we talked. How are you?”

“I’m-” He was about to lie. He was about to say he was fine. But he looked down at the keyboard on his laptop and just couldn’t bring himself to say the words. He wasn’t fine. He didn’t think he’d be okay for the rest of his life. After all, according to his doctor, he only had five more months. He felt the urge to cough rise up in his throat. He ducked off camera to cough, making sure none of the petals came into view.

When he sat back up properly, Phichit was looking at him sadly. Everyone did that nowadays. It bothered him but he never said anything about it. He was getting used to it.

“Yuuri, are you okay?” he asked, seeming to know the answer.

“No,” Yuuri said, “I’m not okay. Viktor’s dead, it’s my fault, and I’m not okay.”

“It’s not your fault,” Phichit said immediately, “What would even make you say that?”

“He had Hanahaki and he died. Of course it’s my fault. If I had just fallen in love with him sooner, then he’d be alive.”

Phichit looked confused. “I thought you _were_ in love with him.”

“I thought so too. I idolized him for years, Phichit. Of course I loved him. I was there when it happened. I told him I loved him. And then he died. He just stopped breathing and his heart stopped. Then the nurses rushed in and-”

“Yuuri, it’s okay,” Phichit said quickly, “Don’t cry.” That was when Yuuri even realized that he was crying.  He wiped the tears from his eyes and moved off camera to cough again. Getting hysterical started his coughing.

“Sorry,” he said when he was finished. There was a large pile of hyacinth petals on the floor but he could ignore it for the moment.

“Yuuri, it doesn’t matter what happened. You’re not responsible for Viktor dying.”

Yuuri looked at the bottom of the screen. He didn’t believe him. He knew Viktor died because of him. That was why he needed to die too. He had to pay Viktor back for killing him. And a long, slow, painful death would do it.

“Yuuri, I know you don’t believe me. So stop ignoring me and actually listen.” Yuuri picked up his head to look at the screen. “It’s not your fault. Viktor made a choice. He is responsible for his own death, not you. Don’t even think anything so awful. It’s his fault, not yours.”

“But I do love him,” Yuuri said, “I loved him then and I love him now. I’ve loved him for years. How did he develop Hanahaki?”

Phichit looked off screen this time. “I don’t know, Yuuri. But it’s not your fault.”

It didn’t matter how many times Yuuri heard it; he knew they were wrong. He was responsible. It was his fault. Viktor died for him. And nothing was going to fix that. Viktor was dead and he couldn’t come back. The thought alone almost made Yuuri cry again but he managed to stop the tears. He took a deep breath. The urge to cough returned but he fought against it.

“Thanks, Phichit,” he said, “I need to go. My mom needs help with some of the guests.”

“Okay,” Phichit replied. He didn’t look like he was satisfied with their conversation. Not even close. “Don’t be a stranger, Yuuri. Call me sometimes. Tell me all about the programs you’re creating.”

“I will,” Yuuri said, “Good bye, Phichit.”

“Bye.”

Yuuri shut the lid of his laptop. Usually talking to Phichit helped cheer him up but not today. Today it was another knife in the ever growing wound that was Viktor.

But it would be over soon. Just a few more months and it would all be over.

* * *

It was summer when Yuuri got his assignment for the season. He would be competing in the third event in China and the sixth event in Russia. Phichit was also going to be in the cup of China. So would Chris and a few other skaters Yuuri knew. It was the Rostelecom Cup that Yuuri was more worried about. The other Yuri would be competing in that one. Yuuri wasn’t as friendly with the skaters there as he was with the ones at the China Cup. He was nervous already.

His family had a little party for his assignment. It was just the Katsukis, Nishigoris, and Minako. The triplets explained the entire thing to Yuuri’s family while Takeshi and Yuuko talked to him about the competition. Yuuko just mentioned about the strong skaters that Yuuri would have to go up against when he froze. He knew it would be extremely difficult. Especially when he didn’t have a particularly strong program.

Yuuko noticed her mistake immediately, “But you’ll do fine. Don’t worry.”

“You’ll do well, Yuuri,” Minako said encouragingly. Yuuri took a moment to cough, catching the petals in his hands. Everyone there knew he was sick but it didn’t pay to display it.

Makkachin whined at the noise. He seemed so sensitive to Yuuri’s illness. Maybe because his previous owner had died of it.

“And we’ll be with you at the first competition,” Takeshi added.

“Dad got us all tickets,” Axel said.

“We’ll be cheering you on,” Lutz added.

“And we’ll film the whole thing,” Loop contributed.

“No, you won’t,” Yuuko jumped in, “You’re not going to film anything without his explicit permission again. Do you understand?”

As Yuuko berated her daughters, Mari sat down next to Yuuri. She lit a cigarette and said, “Do you think you’ll be able to make it? With your illness. Wouldn’t it be better to have the surgery and then go back to skating?” Yuuri looked down at the floor. This was the first time his family had asked about the surgery. He hadn’t told them his plans yet. He figured he would do it after the Grand Prix final. Or sooner, if he didn’t last that long.

“I’ll be okay,” Yuuri replied, “Thank you though, Mari-nee-chan.” He coughed from the smoke, which led to petals gathering in his hands.

“So when are you having the surgery?” she asked. No one else seemed to notice their conversation. He only needed an answer that would satisfy her. This wasn’t the time. Not yet.

“Over the summer,” Yuuri replied.

She shrugged, appeased for the moment. “It’s your choice.” She put out her cigarette and got up, allowing Minako to slide in next to him.

“We have time to perfect your programs,” she said with a smile, “You’ll do great.”

“Thanks,” Yuuri said. He had to after all. He owed it to Viktor to do well.

* * *

The summer months seemed to pass by quickly. Yuuri spent all his time practicing on the ice and visiting the doctor. It wasn’t like he was going to get better anytime soon. And he wasn’t. Every time he went, it was more time gone on his countdown. Not that he cared.

But the more months that passed, the more his family asked about the surgery. At first, they just asked casual questions but the longer the summer drew on, the more probing they became. The day before the Chugoku, Shikoku, and Kyushu Championship, they sat him down.

It was just the four of them. No one else was in the room. The TV was on nearby and some usual patrons were drunk in the main room. But no one was going to overhear this conversation.

“Yuuri,” his father started. He was so serious in contrast to his usual jolly nature. Yuuri only really heard him talk like this when he was in trouble in his youth. It had been a long time since he’d heard that tone of voice directed at him.

“Yes, Dad?” he asked as innocently as he could.

“When are you going to have the surgery?” he asked.

“You’ve been mourning Vik-chan for a long time,” his mother added gently, “But it’s coming time where-” Yuuri started a coughing fit and cut her off. Petals fell out of his mouth and onto the floor. His sister stood up, grabbed a bucket and handed it to him. Yuuri spent a few minutes emptying his lungs of the petals before their conversation could resume.

“When are you having the surgery?” Mari asked, cutting right to the chase.

It was time. He was about to leave for competitions. He was progressing well, according to his doctors. He was still approaching his time limit but he hadn’t even coughed up a full flower yet. He was doing well.

“I can’t have the surgery,” he said, “I’m almost at the end of my timeline.” His father looked at him like he was crazy. His mother burst into tears. Mari didn’t even react.

“You put it off until it was too late,” she said.

“Yuuri, you have to have the surgery,” his father insisted, “If you don’t you’re going to die.”

His mother sobbed. Yuuri couldn’t speak.

“Why do you want to die?” Mari asked nonchalantly, “Is it because of Viktor?”

Yuuri didn’t answer. The more Yuuri watched his mother cry, the less confident he felt. He knew he’d be hurting those he loved. They did need his help around the inn and what money he made a skater helped keep them afloat when business was bad. But he had money saved. They would be okay after him.

“You want to die?” his mother asked through her tears, “Why, Yuuri?”

Just watching her and how upset she was brought tears to his eyes too. “I can’t do this,” he whispered, “I can’t live like this.”

“If you have the surgery you’ll forget,” Mari said.

“I can’t forget! Not Viktor! I can’t.” The guilt was eating away at him. He couldn’t live with it but he couldn’t live without it. He just couldn’t live anymore. That was the only solution he could think of.

* * *

Yuuri was, by far, the oldest skater in the men’s division of the Chugoku, Shikoku, and Kyushu Championship. Everyone else was still in their teens. It was a little humiliating, as one of the skaters had beaten him during Nationals. He wasn’t exactly nervous but he was a little jittery.

Minako was sticking pretty close to him, a gentle smile on her face. She did have to answer a few questions from the reporters but no one was too interested in talking to him. Sure, Viktor Nikiforov had traveled from Russia to be his coach but he’d passed away before anything could be done about it. If any of them broached the topic of Viktor, one look at Yuuri’s face had Minako shutting them up and moving Yuuri away.

He was used to the reporters and their annoying questions. But they asked about Viktor and he couldn’t handle that. It was September, five months after Viktor’s death, one month away from his projected death date. And Yuuri couldn’t talk about Viktor in public. He could barely talk about Viktor at all. It hurt. He was bombarded with images. Viktor’s skating, Viktor at the hot springs, Viktor pulling him close, whispering about how they should get to know each other, Viktor lying on a hospital bed, hooked up to an oxygen tank, pale as a sheet as the heart monitor screeched.

“Yuuri,” Minako said. His chest felt tight. It felt like someone was choking him. No. Not now.

“I’m okay,” he said, looking around briefly. Satisfied no one would see, he coughed into his hand, flower petals slipping through his fingers and onto the floor. His heart was racing. He felt sick.

Yuuri stopped himself. He could keep coughing, he felt like he could cough forever, but he didn’t want to anymore. Minako bent down to pick up the petals that fell.

“Are you alright?” she asked. Yuuri took a few deep breaths. He was shaking now. He hated this. Why did he have to have a mental illness on top of the physical one?

“Yuuri?”

“I’ll be okay. I can skate.”

Minako looked him over. She had to know. She knew all about his depression and anxiety. After all, she’d been his teacher for years. She had to know he was having an anxiety attack. She took a deep breath. “Let’s go back then. You’re going first after all.”

Right.

* * *

When Yuuri got off the ice, he was practically shaking. The skating had helped, it definitely did. But it didn’t cure his anxiety. Not to mention, his lungs felt like they were going to explode. He needed to cough desperately.

As soon as he got close, Minako handed him his skate guards. Yuuri snapped them on as fast as possible then nearly sprinted out of the arena. The people outside looked at him oddly but he didn’t care. He had to find a bathroom.

It took only a minute to find one. Once the stall door was locked, he started coughing into the toilet. It was easier to get rid of the petals by flushing them than painstakingly trying to collect them.

He heard the door open but he couldn’t stop coughing. His lungs hurt from the effort. His stomach hurt too. Suddenly, the coughing switched to gagging and Yuuri’s head got closer to the toilet. He really didn’t want to throw up.

Someone knocked on the stall door. A voice said, “Are you alright?”

Yuuri calmed down enough just to say, “I’m okay. Thanks.” The coughing fit returned and he was bent over the toilet again. The coughing was forcing his eyes to water. Or maybe he was crying. He just felt awful all the time. His chest always hurt and he needed to cough constantly.

Eventually, he stopped the coughing. The toilet was full of purple petals. Yuuri took some toilet paper and wiped the spit off his mouth and threw that into the toilet too. He flushed and made sure every petal disappeared in the swirl of water. Once he was satisfied, he walked out.

Minako was standing outside the bathroom, waiting for him. “You got 86.14. So far you’re in first and the last one is skating.”

“I’m in first?” Yuuri asked.

“Yup,” Minako replied with a smile, “You did well, Yuuri.”

As it turned out, he was in first at the end of the competition. The Nishigoris congratulated him. The triplets had filmed the entire thing, with Yuuri’s blessing. He had stepped out on his quadruple toe loop and had a bit of a stiff expression during the step sequence but he’d been having an anxiety attack, which he’d thankfully calmed down from. He still got a good score though. Yuuri couldn’t help but be proud of himself though. This was the first step. The first step towards a gold at the Grand Prix.

* * *

Kenjirou Minami, as it turned out, was a big fan of Yuuri. He’d even worn a costume based on one of Yuuri’s old ones, which horrified him a little.

Minami had wished him luck and Yuuri had blown him off. It wasn’t like he was trying to be rude but he was nervous enough as it was and desperate to empty his lungs of petals. He knew it was wrong. Viktor didn’t blow off his fans. Even when they’d first met, Viktor had offered him a photo, even if that hadn’t been why he’d been staring. After all, Viktor had been his idol.  Yuuri had loved him.

Yuuri stopped and just looked at the floor. Had been. Wasn’t anymore. Because Viktor was dead. And Yuuri couldn’t have loved him.

He took a few shaky breaths. Minami seemed nervous on the ice. Maybe they were both out of it today.

Yuuri left the arena to prepare himself for his routine. As he was in first, he would be going last. He stayed outside in the cool air, doing his stretches. He knew Minako was going to leave him alone for this. He didn’t need encouraging words or anything; he just had to collect his thoughts.

He wanted Viktor there. He wanted him there as his coach, the badge around his neck, smiling at Yuuri, talking to his about his routines. He wanted it. He wanted Viktor. His heart ached worse than his lungs. He missed him. Despite everything else, he desperately missed Viktor. They hadn’t know each other long but Yuuri had been promised something incredible and it was ripped away from him so quickly. He loved Viktor so much. It hurt to think about him but it hurt worse when he was able to distract himself and smile for a change. Once he remembered, he was devastated. Viktor was dead because of him. If only Yuuri hadn’t existed, then Viktor would be competing again. Skating gracefully over the ice, silver hair whipping around during one of his jumps, the smile on his face when he won, the-

“Yuuri,” Minako said, poking her head out the door. Yuuri stood up straight, a little embarrassed at having been caught. “You’re up next.”

“Right. Coming,” he said. He coughed quickly, three petals falling onto the ground. Out there, it wasn’t too conspicuous so he just left it.

By the time they got back to the arena, the other skater was just about done with his routine. Yuuri took off his jacket to reveal his costume. He liked it a lot. It was a blazer and pants with a see through midsection. The leotard he had to wear under it was a little annoying but overall, he thought it looked pretty good on him. After losing some weight, he felt a little more confident in his body. Although, it felt a little looser than his last fitting.

The skater left the ice and Yuuri got on. He skated along the wall to where Minako was standing, holding his jacket. “You’ll do well, Yuuri,” she said encouragingly.

“Thank you,” he replied.

His name was announced and he skated to the center of the rink, facing the judges. He stood there, one leg crossed behind the other, eyes closed, looking down.

He could do this. After all, this was what Viktor wanted for him. He couldn’t let him down now.

The music began to play. And Yuuri danced.

* * *

They celebrated his win that night. It seemed a bit somber, after Yuuri told his family his plans, or lack thereof. The triplets insisted that Yuuri not take his medal off the entire night and he was happy to oblige. He was smiling and it felt good. He thought Viktor would be proud. After all, he’d come in first in the Chugoku, Shikoku, and Kyushu Championship. He was that much closer to both their goal.

“You did well,” Minako told him. He believed her. He liked this feeling.

There was plenty of alcohol going around, as well as juice for the triplets. Yuuri’s father had already had some and seemed to be heading down that dark path they both did when drunk. His mother was remaining relatively sober, but she seemed to be the only one. Everyone else was having a good time with plenty of alcohol. Yuuri wasn’t having any, but he didn’t want to put a damper on their good time. Besides, they were happy and that was what he wanted.

He coughed a little, petals falling out of his mouth. He quickly put them in his pocket to avoid notice. No point in bringing everybody down with his terminal illness.

The triplets were complaining to their father, who had already had too much to drink. Not that their mother was much better; Yuuko was passed out on the floor. None of them could handle alcohol well.

He wanted Viktor there. He didn’t know what Viktor looked like drunk but he imagined Viktor was a silly drunk, not unlike himself and his father. He was always so animated, Yuuri could only imagine that continued when he was inebriated. He could imagine Viktor here, leaning against Yuuri, a drunken blush across his cheeks. He’d probably say something flirtatious and now, Yuuri would know why. They would talk and laugh together. Later, Yuuri would probably have to help him to bed. He’d probably be stupid and not drink any water and then wake up with a wicked hangover. So Yuuri would have to give him aspirin and water and listen to him complain about his headache. And he didn’t mind it. He just wanted Viktor around. He wanted him back in the house where he belonged, sitting next to him, Makkachin at their feet. He wanted Viktor back so badly it burned in his chest.

Yuuri coughed. The petals flew everywhere, scattering all around him. It hurt to cough them up but Yuuri didn’t go a day without a sore throat anymore. He hurt so badly and he wanted it to end already. He was ready for his pain to end.

Something caught in his throat, blocking the air from reaching his lungs. He brought his hand to his throat and started to cough even harder. It hurt. He couldn’t breathe. In the drunken revelry, no one seemed to notice him choking. They were all laughing at a comment his father had made. Only once their laughter died down could anyone hear the desperate noises he was making.

“Yuuri!” Drool was spilling out of his mouth. His head was growing fuzzy.

Takeshi hit him on the back, hard. But it did the trick. A flower fell out of his mouth, practically dry. Yuuri started taking huge breaths, trying to get his breath back.

“Are you alright?” the triplets asked. Yuuri nodded, not wanting to talk. No one else said a word. They were all just staring at the flower on the table.

If he was coughing up flowers, it was bad. His disease was progressing further now. He didn’t have too much time left.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading. Please leave a comment/kudos if you enjoyed having some angst in your day.


	3. Chapter 3

It was a cool night. Minako and Yuuri had arrived at their hotel earlier in the day and were off trying to find a place for dinner. They were in China for the competition and Yuuri hadn’t contacted the other skaters yet. Not that he was trying to avoid them, especially Phichit. But he hadn’t exactly gone public with his disease yet. No one knew outside of his small circle in Japan. He hadn’t even told Phichit yet. He knew he had to, after all they were good friends. But he didn’t know how to or when. Maybe after the competition. But for now, he sat in the hot pot place with Minako and tried not to think about that, or his horrendous urge to cough. He couldn’t in public. Not now.

Minako decided to try some of the more interesting options on the menu but Yuuri wanted something simple. He didn’t want to upset his stomach before the competition. He didn’t need anything else to mess up his performance.

“How do you feel?” Minako asked.

Yuuri shrugged. “No different. Ever since I coughed up the flower, it’s been about the same.”

“As long as it’s not worse,” Minako replied sadly.

“Oh, Yuuri?” They both turned their heads. Phichit was standing there with a smile on his face, phone in hand, as usual.

“Phichit.” Yuuri hoped he hadn’t overheard them. But based on his expression, he hadn’t.

“So this is where you were eating,” he said, “Talk about a coincidence. Hey, can I invite Ciao Ciao?”

Yuuri tensed. He hadn’t talked to Celestino since they’d parted ways when he graduated. And he had no desire to talk to him now.

“Don’t you want to see him?” Phichit asked excitedly.

“Um. Not really?” But by the time Yuuri spoke, Phichit had already texted him. He sat down in the booth next to Yuuri and happily chatted with Minako.

Yuuri kept quiet, silently worrying. He didn’t even know what he would say to Celestino after soon long. It had been half a year since they’d parted ways. Almost as long as Yuuri had been sick.

He sighed. So much had changed in half a year. He wondered if he’d be able to see 2017.

“Right, Yuuri?” Phichit asked.

“What?” Yuuri said. He coughed into his sleeve, quickly bringing his arm back to his side. He didn’t want Phichit to see. Not yet.

“I was telling your coach about our days in Detroit. Remember when we all “lost” our skates on April fool’s Day?” Phichit looked serious for a moment. “Oh wait. You weren’t going to do it so we hid your skates.”

Minako laughed loudly at that. Her cheeks were flushed. Yuuri’s eyes wandered to the empty wine bottle on the table.

“Yeah, I remember that,” Yuuri said. It had been a bit anxiety inducing as he thought he’d lost them or they’d been stolen and he didn’t have the money for replacements. Only to find out Phichit and some of the other skaters had stolen them. He got them back later that day but he hadn’t been happy.

Phichit laughed. “Right? We were only able to convince Ciao Ciao because you were so frantic about it.”

Yuuri laughed weakly. That hadn’t been a good day.

It took fifteen minutes for Celestino to show up. He had a bright smile on his face too. “Ciao, ciao.”

“Hi,” Yuuri said weakly. Minako introduced herself and Yuuri moved to sit next to her so Phichit could sit with Celestino.

“We’ve got a third of the skaters here,” Phichit said, “Let’s get the rest.” He was on his phone, texting furiously.

“Is that necessary?” Yuuri asked.

“The more the merrier, right Yuuri?” Minako said, draping herself over him. She was definitely drunk. _Great._

“Leo’s coming,” Phichit said, “He said he’s gonna bring Guang-Hong too. I’ll try to get Georgi and Christophe.”

Within ten minutes, five of the six skaters competing in the Cup of China were shoved into the tiny booth at the restaurant. Celestino and Minako had passed out and the rest of them were crammed into the seats. Guang-Hong and Leo had shoved themselves next to Phichit and Celestino and Yuuri was sharing the seat with Chris, who had his hand really high up on Yuuri’s thigh. Despite the fact that he was definitely blushing, he tried to ignore it.

Everyone had had some alcohol, with the exception of Yuuri, who had no desire to drink before a competition and while sick, and Guang-Hong, who was underage. No one was drunk but Phichit and Chris seemed a little tipsy.

“Yuuri,” Guang-Hong said excitedly, “Tell us all about Viktor. What was he like?”

“Yeah, tell us,” Leo added.

Chris looked upset after their comments. Yuuri knew that he and Viktor had been good friends and he apparently had flown to Russia for Viktor’s funeral.

“He was amazing,” Yuuri said, looking at his empty glass. “He didn’t stay with me for very long before he died. But, he was just so-” He hesitated to find the right word. He remembered Viktor’s enthusiasm, the way he smiled, how gentle he was and now, what Yuuri realized was just how much he was in love. Everything Viktor did conveyed how much he was in love, yet Yuuri was here, competing, breathing, _alive_ , and Viktor was six months dead. It didn’t seem fair.

“Yuuri, are you okay?” Chris asked.

Yuuri took in a shaky breath and coughed. He turned away from everyone and towards Minako’s unconscious form. Petals came up and Yuuri struggled to hide them. They couldn’t know.

He turned back towards everyone and they were watching him. Leo and Guang-Hong seemed confused but Chris and Phichit looked at him with such sympathetic eyes. There was no way they’d figured it out.

“I’m okay,” Yuuri said. His voice sounded scratchier than before. His throat hurt.

“Let’s talk about something else,” Chris said, looking at Yuuri before turning to face the younger skaters.

They stayed until late, chatting about nothing before they all went back to the hotel. Phichit struggled to wake up Celestino and had Leo help him take the coach back to his room. Yuuri succeeded in waking up Minako and she managed to stumble back to the hotel with the rest of them.

Once she was in her room and the rest of the skaters left to go to bed, Yuuri confronted Chris. He was about to go to his own room when Yuuri said, “Can we talk, just for a minute?”

Chris looked at him strangely but said, “Sure. Your room or mine?” Yuuri expected that would sound slightly sexual, especially coming from Chris, but he just sounded tired.

“Mine is right here,” Yuuri said. Once they were inside and the door was closed, Yuuri said, “How are you, Chris?”

“Fine. Why do you ask?”

“Really, how are you?”

With the second question, Chris seemed to understand where Yuuri was going. He sighed and ran a hand through his hair. “Alright. I thought Viktor would live. I didn’t think it would go so far that it would kill him. But he never told me how serious his Hanahaki was.”

Yuuri was stunned. “You knew he had Hanahaki?”

“Right after he announced that he was taking a break, he told me.”

“What did he say?” Yuuri asked.

“He told me he was in love with you.”

Yuuri already knew that. But hearing it from Chris was confirmation he didn’t know he’d wanted. Yuri was a child, easily riled up and prone to outbursts. But Chris was an adult, calm and sad talking about Viktor.

“He did,” was all Yuuri could say, “Looking back, it was obvious. But I didn’t realize it at the time.” He laughed. “You must blame me for killing me.” Yuuri regretted the words the second they came out of his mouth.

Chris seemed horrified. “What? No. That isn’t your fault. It’s no one’s fault.”

“But he’s still dead.”

“It’s a tragedy that he’s dead. But it’s no one’s fault he’s dead.”

“Yeah. A tragedy.”

* * *

“Yuuri, did you sleep last night?” Minako asked. Yuuri knew she was riding on several aspirin and three water bottles with another one in her hand.

“Yeah, I slept,” Yuuri said slowly. He felt horrendous. After Chris had left, he’d stayed up the entire night agonizing over Viktor and how he killed him. It made for a poor night’s sleep before the competition.

“Your eyes are all puffy,” Minako commented, “Were you crying?”

“No,” Yuuri lied. He’d cried as soon as Chris left the room and then intermittently the entire night. He hated this. He felt so guilty over Viktor’s death. If he’d loved him only a few days sooner, he could have saved his life. But no, Viktor was gone, Yuuri was dying and nothing could be done to change it. Yuuri coughed into his sleeve and buried the petals in his pocket.

“Are you sure you can compete?” Minako asked, “There’s no shame if you drop out.”

“I can do it,” Yuuri said.

He watched Phichit skate on the TV. Then he watched Guang-Hong on the rink. Then he had to skate.

He was on the ice, fidgeting nervously with the sleeve of his costume. Minako stood on the other side of the wall. “You’ll be fine, Yuuri.”

“Next up, representing Japan, Yuuri Katsuki!”

Yuuri left her and went to the center of the rink. He could do this.

And he did. He left the arena with a score of 86.10. He ended the day in fourth place, which wasn’t too bad. He could still do well with that. His dream was still alive.

* * *

The next night, Yuuri slept better. He was so exhausted, he just collapsed early and didn’t wake up until Minako was pounding on his door. He got dressed slowly, and choked up a full flower while trying to brush his teeth.

He was getting worse and he knew it. It wouldn’t be long before he could be with Viktor again.

Yuuri and Minako went to the rink together. Phichit saw him immediately and started chatting with him. It helped calm Yuuri’s nerves so he was thankful for it. Minako had given him tissues so when he coughed, he could hide it better. He took one out of his pocket and coughed. The petals flew into the tissue but Yuuri kept coughing.

Phichit looked at him oddly as he hacked up the petals. Eventually, he got it back under control and straightened out, looking at Phichit with as much of a smile as he could muster. “Sorry.”

“Are you okay? Getting sick?”

“Yeah, maybe a bit. Don’t worry, it won’t hold me back today.” Phichit seemed appeased by Yuuri’s confidence. He knew that would work on his best friend. After the competition he was going to tell him. He owed it to him to tell him.

Guang-Hong was first on the ice. Then Christophe. And then it was Yuuri’s turn.

He stood in the middle of the ice, one leg crossed behind the other, head bowed. He took a few deep breaths. He only had to go three minutes and forty-one seconds without coughing. That was it.

The music started and he brought his cupped hands together, lifting them up as he raised his head, eyes closed.

“He will be skating to “Yuuri on Ice”. He choreographed the routine himself.” Yuuri didn’t want to listen to the announcers but their voices cut into his head.

“Yuuri has chosen regret as his theme for the season.”

After all, for the past six months, regret had become the theme of his life. Ever since Viktor had perished in the white hospital room, Yuuri’s mind had been filled with regrets.

“Quadruple toe loop, double toe loop combination. Well executed.”

He could see Viktor in his mind’s eye. He’d be waiting on the side, smiling with that heart-shaped smile. His blue eyes would be sparkling in happiness. This was what he wanted after all. Yuuri had to keep going, for him.

He wondered how everyone would react if he changed the last jump from a quadruple toe loop to a quadruple flip.

Yuuri had many regrets in life but none so consuming as his regrets about Viktor. He loved him so much just thinking about him tore his heart to pieces. He just wanted to get to know him better, to live together, train together, skate together. That would never happen now. Viktor was dead and buried and Yuuri had to skate for him instead. He was going to go as far as he could. He had to, for Viktor.

“Now onto the step sequence.”

He hoped everyone could see it in his skating. Let them all know how much he loved Viktor. Let them know he was ready to give his life for him. The last months of Katsuki Yuuri’s life would be for Viktor!

“A-a quadruple flip! He fell but there appeared to be enough rotations! The quadruple flip was the signature move of the late Viktor Nikiforov, but not even Nikiforov attempted as complicated a jump as this at the end of a program, when fatigue would be at its peak! Here’s a man who will go above and beyond our expectations, Katsuki Yuuri!”

He had to cut out the last spins of the program, substituting a few more steps instead just because he could barely breathe. It had been a mistake to do the quadruple flip but despite how his lungs burned and his legs ached, he felt good. He’d surprised them all. He thought that this was what Viktor would have wanted from him.

Minako was cheering from the sidelines. Phichit was there, applauding him. Even Chris was smiling. He’d done it. Yuuri fell onto the ice, trying to get his breath back. This was the happiest he’d felt in five months.

* * *

It took some time but Yuuri managed to get Phichit away from all the reporters for a moment.

“Yuuri, congrats on your medal. Come on, let’s take a selfie.”

“Okay,” Yuuri said. They both looked into the camera, Phichit holding up his gold medal and Yuuri holding up his bronze. He could barely believe he’d gotten a medal while he had Hanahaki Disease. It seemed incredible. Then again, as soon as he’d gotten off the ice, he’d run to the bathroom to throw up from overworking himself. And the toilet was covered in petals and flowers by the time he’d finished. He’d barely made it in time to stand on the podium.

“That’s great,” Phichit said as he uploaded it to Instagram.

“Phichit, I wanted to talk to you,” Yuuri said.

“Sure. What is it?”

“Not here. Tonight. Come to my hotel room, okay?”

“Sure. Is this about-”

“Phichit!” Celestino called, “You’ve got an interview to do.”

“Coming,” Phichit called back, “I’ll talk to you tonight, Yuuri.” He ran off.

It was late when Phichit came to his hotel room. Yuuri had left the door unlocked for him. He was in the bathroom when his best friend walked in, empting his lungs of petals in preparation.

He heard Phichit call his name as he stepped in. Yuuri coughed up the last of them for the moment and flushed the toilet. He washed his hands and stepped out into the room. Phichit was sitting on his bed, fiddling with his phone.

“Yuuri,” he said and put his phone down, “What’s up? What’d you want to talk about?”

Yuuri grabbed the tissue box as he walked over to his best friend. They were probably both going to need it by the end of their talk.

He sat down on the bed next to Phichit, the box on his lap. He tried not to cough again.

“Phichit, I need to tell you something,” Yuuri began. He grabbed a tissue and began to ball it up nervously. Phichit watched him do that curiously.

“Yuuri, you’re starting to worry me. What is it?”

“Phichit, I have Hanahaki Disease.”

Yuuri watched Phichit’s face crumble in shock. He looked like someone had just stepped on his hamster.

“What? Yuuri, you just got a bronze medal. How are you that sick?”

Yuuri coughed. He didn’t bother to hide it anymore and let the petals slip through his fingers and onto the floor. Phichit watched them fall with wide eyes.

“You do have Hanahaki Disease,” he said slowly, as if he didn’t believe the words he was speaking.

“Yeah. I have for a while now.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” he demanded. He sounded like he was seconds from breaking.

“I didn’t want to mess up your performance.”

“That’s bullshit, Yuuri. If I’m your friend, why didn’t you tell me you’re dying?!”

“I haven’t told a lot of people,” Yuuri said, “But this might be the last time we see each other so I wanted to say goodbye properly.”

“Who is it, Yuuri? Maybe they’ll love you back. There’s still hope.”

“There’s no hope, Phichit. I’m in love with Viktor.”

Phichit looked at him, blinking slowly. Then his eyes wandered down and he bowed his head. Yuuri extended the tissue box towards him but Phichit didn’t accept. Yuuri watched the tears fall down his best friend’s face.

“I’m sorry, Phichit.”

Phichit brought his hands over his mouth and nose and started crying in earnest. Yuuri leaned over to him and Phichit threw his arms around him, hugging him. He hated what this was doing to the ones who loved him.

“Why don’t you have the surgery?” His voice was breaking from the crying but Yuuri understood what he said.

“I can’t. I can’t let Viktor be the only one to die.”

“He’s dead, Yuuri. He doesn’t need company; he’s dead. Hasn’t the skating world lost enough already?”

“No one’s going to mourn for me, Phichit,” Yuuri said calmly.

“I’m mourning for you!” Phichit shouted. He pulled back and looked at Yuuri with red eyes, “I’m mourning for you right now. Don’t die, Yuuri. Please don’t die!”

Yuuri was reminded of a scene he couldn’t forget. Six months back, that had been him, crying his eyes out, talking to Viktor, begging him not to die. And in this moment, he just felt numb. Phichit’s tears didn’t sway him. He wasn’t going to have the surgery. No one could convince him to.

“I’m sorry, Phichit.”

Phichit dissolved into tears again and Yuuri held him while he cried. He felt sorry for making his friend upset but he wasn’t regretting his choice. That was one regret he didn’t have.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading. Kudos and comments keep an author fed. Thank you. :)


	4. Chapter 4

Things were tense when Yuuri went home. No one wanted to address the obvious elephant in the room. So, for the most part, they ignored it. Yuuri’s parents suggested he go to the doctor but he never went. He spent all his free time practicing for the Rostelecom Cup. He was determined to go to the Grand Prix final and he needed as good a score as possible.

His chest hurt all the time and he had to force himself to keep going through his routines. When Minako didn’t have class, she’d be there with him otherwise Takeshi or Yuuko watched him.

Takeshi was silent but he looked sad when Yuuri coughed on the ice after failing his jumps. But Yuuko was the one who’d talk to him. She’d suggest changes to his routines that he, at first, ignored. But the more he fell, the harder he coughed, the more flowers that fell out of his mouth, the more he knew he had to listen to her. He needed less complicated jumps. He just wasn’t able to do a quadruple flip anymore.

He and Minako worked on the changes but Yuuri was disappointed. He was supposed to be adding more complicated jumps, not taking them away. But the further along the month went, the more he knew that he just wasn’t up to it.

Life at home was no better. But it came to a head halfway through October. He was cleaning off a table of all the bottles that had been left behind. He was bringing it to the kitchen when he had to cough. He brought his elbow over his mouth, the bottles flying to the ground and smashing to pieces.

“Yuuri!” Mari walked out into the main room.

He looked at her but he couldn’t stop coughing. The petals fell to the floor around the bits of broken glass.

“Are you okay?” she asked.

Yuuri nodded but he just kept coughing. Eventually, his airway was blocked and he had to force the flower up. Only once he could breathe again did he speak. “Sorry, Mari-nee-chan. I’ll clean this up.”

“Yuuri, why don’t you just have the surgery?”

He was caught off guard by her remark. “I’ve told you why I can’t.”

“You’ve told me why you won’t. Not that you can’t.”

“It’s advised to get the surgery early,” Yuuri remarked, “I’m already six months in. They said I’d be dead by now.”

“But you’re not.” She spoke calmly, without a hint of emotion.

“If I’m nearly dead they won’t do it. I’m going to die.”

“But you don’t have to.” She was growing angry, her voice raising the more she spoke, “You can just forget Viktor and you’ll be fine. You can skate; you can win the Grand Prix. You have the ability, Yuuri, but you’re too sick to win now. You don’t have to die and leave the rest of us behind!”

“What do I have left if I forget Viktor?” Yuuri demanded, “Posters in my room of a man I don’t know? He’s been part of my life since I was twelve! What happens when I forget him? I’ll lose so much of my life that it won’t matter anymore.”

“Of course it matters,” Mari countered, “There are people who care about you. And we’ll all lose you if you die.”

“I’m sorry, Mari-nee-chan. I don’t want to cause you all pain but-”

“Then don’t!” She interrupted him, “Don’t! Have the surgery and live. You’ll learn how to function without him. There are tons of success stories about people who had the surgery after Hanahaki and were fine. You don’t need to die for him, Yuuri.”

“I’m sorry, Mari. But I do.”

She stormed away, so angry she didn’t say anything else. Yuuri stepped over the glass carefully before he found a broom to sweep it all up. He didn’t want to think about their argument while he worked. He knew he was being selfish but this was something he had to do. And he couldn’t let anyone convince him otherwise.

* * *

Minako and Yuuri arrived in Russia without much fanfare and that was honestly for the best. She was hesitant to go to Russia but Yuuri insisted on it. They both knew he was deteriorating fast and that he might not even be able to handle the competition. But he insisted on going so they did. They arrived at the hotel at almost the exact same time the other skaters did, which was entertaining to say the least.

There was a fight near the elevator, which Michele thought was between himself and Emil and Seung Gil but was actually between himself and Sara. They were all talking over each other; it was chaotic. Emil started coughing, Michele and Sara were yelling and Seung Gil looked at them with a blank expression. Yuuri felt the urge to cough around them so pressed the button for the other elevator. As the four of them stood there, he snuck into the other elevator.

Just as the door was mostly closed, Yuuri felt safe and started to cough.

Yuri’s foot stuck in between the doors and they reopened. Yuuri choked on his spit trying to stop the coughing, which only made it worse. He couldn’t stop himself from scattering petals everywhere. The other Yuri just watched him with cold eyes. He seemed pissed off, as usual. The door closed behind him.

“You have Hanahaki Disease,” he said without preamble.

Yuuri couldn’t speak through his coughing so he just nodded. The other Yuri didn’t say anything. Eventually, he got it under control and bent down to pick up the fallen petals. Yuri turned around and pressed the emergency stop button. The elevator lurched but came to a halt.

“Who is it?” he asked, looking down on Yuuri.

“Does it matter?” Yuuri asked, as he collected the petals. He was just lucky he didn’t cough up a full flower in front of Yuri.

“Not really. But isn’t that what they all ask? Say that right after saying ‘I’m sorry’.”

“No one’s said ‘I’m sorry’ to me,” Yuuri admitted.

“Hmm.” He pressed the start button and the elevator moved again.

The elevator opened on his floor and he stepped out. “By the way, Viktor’s buried near here, if you want to visit.” The elevator door closed again, leaving Yuuri alone. He hadn’t even considered visiting Viktor’s grave. Maybe he would make the trip.

* * *

Yuuri coughed absentmindedly into his sleeve as he unpacked. They were going to be there for four days; he figured he might as well. Besides, it wasn’t as if he was going to be invited to any of the skaters’ get-togethers. Not that he minded. After all, his disease was getting worse as well as harder to hide.

He collected the petals from his sleeve and continued to put clothes away. It only took a few minutes but then he had to think about what had just happened. Yuri knew he was sick. With any luck, maybe he hadn’t told the internet yet. Yuuri supposed it didn’t matter. After he was gone, he wanted his family to go public with it anyway, both about his and Viktor’s illnesses. He was honestly surprised that Viktor’s illness had stayed quiet for so long. It was seven months after he had passed away and as far as the media knew, he was just sick and didn’t have Hanahaki at all.

Yuuri started coughing again, just as there was a knock at his door. He couldn’t answer but Minako walked in anyway.

“Yuuri, are you okay?”

He nodded quickly and kept coughing. It really hurt. His throat felt sore from the petals and stems. Yuuri’s mouth tasted like blood.

He finally stopped and looked at the petals. Some had fallen to the floor, staining the carpet an ugly red color. They were covered in blood.

It wouldn’t be long now.

Minako walked over and stared at the petals as well.

“Yuuri,” she said, defeated, “It’s time to stop.”

“I-” He couldn’t even bring himself to say the lie; he started coughing again. His chest hurt so much. Viktor didn’t last four months; how had he survived seven already?

“Yuuri, you’re too sick. You need to drop out. I’m sorry.” Minako sounded just as heartbroken as he felt. Finally, Yuuri was losing his skating too.

When he stopped, he replied, “You’re right.”

“We need to let them know,” Minako said sadly, “Let’s go.”

* * *

Yuuri had never known a torture as cruel as what he was enduring.  He sat in the stands with Georgi, Mila, and Sara and watched the men’s competition. The other Yuri was amazing. Yuuri had never seen his “Eros” routine but he performed it well. Apparently, he took some of the choreography from a routine Viktor had planned on doing and filled in the rest himself. Yuuri wished his short program looked half as good as Yuri’s did.

It felt horrible to see five competitors and know that he was supposed to be the sixth. But he knew that he was too sick for it. They’d said that Yuuri was sick and that he had to drop out. They hadn’t mentioned he had Hanahaki. A reporter asked him if he’d contracted his illness from Viktor and Yuuri had almost laughed. It seemed too ironic that as soon as Viktor died from Hanahaki, Yuuri developed it himself. He couldn’t believe he was so weak.

He was supposed to get a gold medal for Viktor. Maybe it wasn’t the entire reason why he came to Japan but he had believed in Yuuri and Yuuri had failed. And now all he could do was sit and watch the program. He had failed. Now there wasn’t anything he was good for. He was better off dead.

“Yuuri, I’m sorry,” Sara said. He broke out of his reverie to look at her. She looked at him sympathetically. “It must be hard for you. I hope you get better soon. So you can compete next year.” She flashed him a small smile.

Yuuri couldn’t help but smile too. There wasn’t going to be a next year. He’d be lucky if there was a next month. But he wasn’t going to say that to Sara. She was so nice to him.

“Thank you, Sara.” It was all he could say.

He didn’t watch the competition the next day. He went to visit Viktor’s grave instead.

* * *

The next day they checked out early. They got an earlier flight back to Japan. After all, Yuuri knew his time was coming. Might as well spend his last few days with his family and friends. Minako and Yuuri were going outside to catch a cab when someone shouted, “Hey!”

They both turned to look and Yuri was standing there, arms crossed, looking annoyed at the two of them. He was definitely still wearing his pajamas with a tiger hoodie over them.

“Oh, Yuri,” Yuuri said.

“I need to talk to you,” he said, “Somewhere where the entire free world won’t hear.”

Somewhere where the entire free world wouldn’t hear ended up being the men’s room. It seemed fitting that they met in a bathroom and what Yuuri was sure what would be their last exchange would also be in a bathroom.

“Listen,” Yuri said, “I-” Yuuri had never seen the Russian Tiger speechless before. Yuri wasn’t meeting his eyes, arms crossed, looking angry.

“Yuri.”

“Are you going back to Japan to have the surgery? That’s why you dropped out, right?”

Yuuri took a deep breath. It wasn’t like he owed Yuri an explanation. Yet, for some odd reason, he felt compelled to tell Yuri the truth.

“I-yes, I am.” But he couldn’t do it. Yuri was a fifteen year old child. He was barely mature enough to be in the senior competition. He wouldn’t know how to handle Yuuri’s suicide and Yuuri didn’t want to burden him with it.

“T-that’s what I thought. But you better come back next year and compete again. I’ll prove I’m the better Yuri.”

Yuuri couldn’t help but smile. Maybe the Russian Tiger _had_ grown up in the past seven months.

“And I just wanted to say I’m sorry, alright? I was wrong to say you killed Viktor. You didn’t. He was the idiot who didn’t have the surgery or find you fast enough or whatever. But that wasn’t your fault.”  Yuuri was stunned. He hadn’t expected an apology from Yuri. That was the last thing he’d expected.

“Thank you, Yuri. And good luck in the Grand Prix Final. You deserve to be there.” He turned to leave the bathroom.

“Damn right I do. Make sure you’re back next season.”

Yuuri smiled to himself. And then he left Yuri behind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One more chapter to go. Thank you for reading. Please keep leaving kudos and comments. They really mean a lot to me.


	5. Chapter 5

Yuuri’s life became very monotonous when he arrived back in Japan. He helped out with the inn, sometimes, when his lungs could handle it. He mostly swept up his own petals and flowers. He went to Ice Castle Hatsetsu and watched others skate. Yuuko and Takeshi sat and talked with him and made him feel welcome, despite how miserable he felt. The triplets asked questions but all they did was remind him of what he was losing. No one knew how to explain Yuuri’s situation to them and no one was willing to try either.

Makkachin chose to stay as close to Yuuri as he could, as if he knew Yuuri was going to die soon. Whenever Yuuri tried to sleep, Makkachin would rest his head on his chest or back, as if to make sure he was still breathing. It was nice to have a dog again after Vic-chan.

Yuuri’s birthday was approaching when it happened. It was still four days off when he was talking to Phichit. After the Rostelecom cup, Phichit had called nearly every day. He never wanted their last conversation to be their last and Yuuri understood. He felt terrible to make his best friend go through all this but he deserved to know.

Phichit was telling him all about his practices for the Grand Prix final. He was so excited and Yuuri felt happy just listening to him talk.

“You have to come to Barcelona and watch me,” Phichit said, “You promised that you’d be with me when I skated to “Shall We Skate”.”

“I was there in China,” Yuuri said with a weak laugh.

Phichit looked at him angrily. “You know that wasn’t what I meant. Even if you can’t skate you have to be there.”

“Phichit, I’m so sick I had to drop out.” Yuuri started coughing. He was making some horrendous rattling noises when he did, a new symptom that had developed shortly after landing in Japan.

“Yuuri?”

Makkachin whined and put his paws on the desk, looking at Yuuri sadly.

A flower blocked his throat and Yuuri started choking. He brought a hand to his throat and attempted to dislodge the flower himself but he couldn’t cough it up. He was losing oxygen fast.

“Yuuri? Are you okay?” Phichit sounded absolutely panicked, “Is anyone there?”

Makkachin pawed at Yuuri’s leg. His mind was going blank. He just felt so tired.

The last thing he heard was Makkachin barking.

* * *

When Yuuri woke up, the first thing he heard was a beeping. He opened his eyes slowly. His vision was blurry and dark around the edges. He coughed weakly, tasting a hyacinth petal in his mouth before coughing it out. He felt tired. He just wanted to go back to sleep but the beeping was annoying him.

“He’s awake,” said a hushed voice. His mother’s voice. Yuuri pried his eyes open and forced them to stay open. The longer he did, the more his vision cleared up, to a degree. Eventually, he could make out the figures of his parents and sister. He was handed his glasses and he put them on. His mother had been crying. She and his father sat in the plastic chairs on the edge of his bed.

“Where am I?” he asked.

“The hospital,” Mari replied, “You almost choked to death.”

Yuuri looked down. He was propped up in a hospital bed. He could see that he’d been hooked up to a heart monitor. That was what was making the beeping noises.

He remembered being here before. Viktor was lying in the bed, pale as the white blankets, eyes closed, oxygen mask over his face, trying to keep him alive. His heart beat had been steady too, until it wasn’t.

The beeping increased in frequency. Yuuri tried taking deep breaths but it was as if he couldn’t get any oxygen to his lungs. He felt like he was going to be sick. He was remembering too much. His family looked nervous.  A frantic nurse came into the room.

“Panic attack,” was all Yuuri could get out.

“He has an anxiety disorder,” his mother said.

Yuuri sat up and started coughing, blood covered petals staining the white sheets of the bed. He realized that he was dressed in a hospital gown in that moment. And as he pulled away from the wall, he realized he was also wearing a nasal cannula.

Yuuri was given a pan so he could cough up the petals in that. His father was holding his mother as he coughed up petals. Another flower got caught in his throat but he was able to cough it up quickly. Eventually, he stopped and wiped the blood dripping from his mouth. He felt so uncomfortable in his own body.

The heart monitor was still going crazy. “I’m going to give you a tranquilizer,” the nurse said. Yuuri just nodded and allowed her to prick him with a needle. Within a minute, Yuuri felt really tired. He was still panicking but he could hear his heartbeat slow down.

“Sorry,” he said.

“You don’t need to apologize, Yuuri,” his mother said.

“We’ll let you get some rest,” his father added. All three of them left the room, leaving just the nurse.

“Is my phone here?” he asked. The nurse didn’t say a word but walked over to the bedside table and handed him his phone. He unlocked it and found over twenty messages and five missed calls from Phichit. They had been talking when Yuuri blacked out. He must have panicked and thought the worst.

He sent a message back. _I’m okay. In the hospital. Really tired. Will call later._ Yuuri didn’t bother putting his phone back; he just let his arm drop onto the bed.  And he closed his eyes.

* * *

“So, how is Japanese hospital food?” Phichit asked with a smile.

“Pretty bad,” Yuuri replied, “I miss my Mom’s cooking.”

“I bet it’s cleaner than the last hospital you were in,” Phichit teased, “Remember back in college when we thought I’d broken my leg after that quad toe loop and we-”

“How could I forget that?” Yuuri asked, “We had to take the bus because neither of us could afford an ambulance.”

“We were quite a sight, me limping into the hospital, slumped on your shoulder.”

“And all that trouble and it was only sprained,” Yuuri said with a little laugh.

“You should have seen the bill,” Phichit said, “At least the school made us have insurance otherwise I’d be paying it off for the rest of my life.” They both laughed.

“And yeah, this hospital is better,” Yuuri commented.

“It had to be compared to the one in Detroit. My hamsters’ cage is a better place than that hospital was.” They laughed again at the memory.

“So how long are you gonna be in there?” Phichit asked.

Yuuri’s smile disappeared. “They want to keep me here until I get better. They said my lungs are really bad.”

Phichit looked confused. “You have Hanahaki Disease. You’re not going to get better.”

“Yeah. I’m here until I die.” Yuuri coughed hard. He put down the phone as quickly as possible and covered his mouth. Red coated purple petals fell into his hands.

“You’re not going to have the surgery,” Phichit said. His voice was flat.

“I can’t now,” Yuuri said when he was finished coughing, “The disease has progressed too much. My only hope now is to have my love returned but-” He didn’t need to finish the sentence. They both knew it wasn’t going to happen.

“You need to call me every day,” Phichit said, “If we have the time, we have to say everything.” He seemed upset. Yuuri couldn’t blame him.

“Of course,” he said. It seemed so morbid to talk about his impending death.

Yuuri heard someone call Phichit on the other end of their conference. He turned around and said something in Thai. Then he turned back to his phone. “Sorry, Yuuri. I gotta go. But I’ll call tomorrow. Same time?”

“Sure,” Yuuri replied, “Bye, Phichit.”

“Later.”

* * *

“Yuuri!” Yuuko poked her head in with a smile. Yuuri couldn’t help but smile back at her. Her happiness was infectious, always had been.

“Yuuri!” Takeshi poked his head in behind his wife. They both walked into his room and took a seat next to the window. Yuuko was carrying a bag.

“How have you been, Yuuri?” Takeshi asked, “Feeling okay?”

“About the same,” Yuuri replied, “How is everything? Where are the triplets?”

“Oh, they’re too young to visit,” Yuuko said, her smile disappearing for a moment, “But they made a video for you. Just let me set it up.” She immediately looked at her phone before finding the video and passing it to Yuuri. He pressed play.

It made him smile. The triplets spent a minute and a half encouraging him to get better, to get back on the ice, and make Viktor proud. It ended and he passed Yuuko’s phone back. “Thank you. And tell them thank you.”

“Of course we will,” Takeshi said, obviously proud of his daughters.

“We also brought you food,” Yuuko said as if she’d forgotten. She got out a carefully wrapped up meal and handed it to Yuuri. He felt like crying with joy.

“Thank you,” he said before opening it up and eating. It tasted heavenly. After three days in the hospital, it was wonderful.

“I knew you’d miss a home cooked meal,” Yuuko said, “I remember how bad the food was here.”

“You weren’t here long though,” Yuuri said.

“I was here for two days when I gave birth,” Yuuko said, “Has the food improved any?”

“Not at all.”

“Remember when Yuuri and I ran to get take out for you?” Takeshi asked.

“I remember that,” Yuuri said, “We had to sneak it all in.”

“I’m so glad you did it,” Yuuko said, “I could-” Yuuri interrupted her with his coughing. The flower petals fell all over the food. Yuuko and Takeshi just watched him cough. He tried to stop it; he didn’t want them to see how sick he was. But he couldn’t and ended up coughing for several minutes before he finally got it back under control.

“Sorry,” he croaked out.

“It’s okay,” Yuuko replied. Her eyes wandered down to the petals and Yuuri attempted to collect them all. “What flower is that?”

“Hyacinth,” Yuuri replied.

“What does it mean?”

“I don’t know.” The flower was often representative of the love one had. Yuuri had been told it was hyacinth but he’d never bothered to look it up.

Yuuko was immediately on her phone. Takeshi looked over her shoulder to watch.

“Does it matter?” Yuuri asked.

“Aren’t you curious?” she replied.

“Not really.” What did it matter? It wasn’t like he didn’t know enough about this.

“It’s purple, right?” Takeshi asked.

“Yeah.”

“Purple hyacinth means “I’m sorry; please forgive me”.” Yuuko said as she locked her phone, “It’s not the flower choking your lungs. It’s your regret.”

Yuuri certainly had a lot of regrets. Viktor was just his biggest one.

“Yeah,” he said, half laughing, “That makes sense.”

* * *

It was late. Yuuri decided to stay up and watch the date change. He was a night owl anyway, so it was no great difficulty for him to stay up until midnight. He normally didn’t like his birthday, as it was another year older, just proving how little time he had left on the ice.

But it didn’t matter anymore. And he hadn’t expected to live to see his birthday so when he watched 23:59 turn into 0:00, he felt happy, like it was an accomplishment.

He’d turned twenty-four in a hospital bed, barely able to breathe. He coughed up more petals, speckling his white sheets red. Try as he might, he couldn’t get his breath back. He just kept coughing. The flowers kept coming up and he couldn’t breathe.

A nurse came into the room and threw on the lights. She spoke into her radio but Yuuri couldn’t hear over his coughing. Within a minute, some more people showed up. Yuuri couldn’t stop coughing. He saw them prepare an oxygen mask for him. He was gasping between coughs. His chest felt tight, like his organs were about to burst.

Someone grabbed his arm. Everyone was yelling and Yuuri couldn’t breathe. He felt tired. He was still coughing weakly but his vision was going dark. Yuuri leaned back and relaxed.

* * *

Yuuri was dreaming. He had to be. His chest and throat didn’t hurt for the first time in months. His vision was blurry but he knew he was standing on the edge of an ice rink. He was alone, except for the person on the ice. There was no music but the person was skating to a routine, seemingly oblivious to him. They cleanly landed a quadruple flip and Yuuri was taken aback. They were good.

Yuuri’s vision started to go into focus and he realized who was skating. It was Viktor. He was in his costume from the Grand Prix final and Yuuri recognized the routine. He’d done it too. It was “Stay Close to Me”.

Viktor didn’t seem to notice him but continued his skating. Yuuri couldn’t look away. He couldn’t speak. He just stayed there, completely mesmerized. It was absolutely beautiful. He’d had dreams of Viktor before but not like this. He could feel himself crying as he watched.

Viktor finished his routine. He looked at the ceiling with a smile on his face. He didn’t even seem out of breath. He moved out of his pose and Yuuri noticed a bouquet of flowers in his hand.

Viktor started skating over to him, still smiling. And Yuuri realized that his costume wasn’t exactly the same as the one from the Grand Prix. There were lilac flower petals all over it, seemingly tucked into the seams and pockets of the outfit. More petals trailed behind him as he skated over.

Viktor stopped at the wall of the rink, right in front of Yuuri. He was even more beautiful now. The lights made his silver hair seem to glow. His eyes were sparkling. He had a happy smile on his face. The Viktor Yuuri had met was one close to death and in pain. This Viktor wasn’t. He was healthy and happy. He was free.

Viktor held the bouquet in both hands and presented it to Yuuri. They were the same flowers that were on Viktor’s costume. Viscaria. Yuuri didn’t know how he knew that but he knew they were viscaria. Lilac viscaria.

He accepted the bouquet, cradling it in his arms. He couldn’t stop smiling at it. The flowers were lovely. Perfect, like Viktor himself.

Gently, Viktor took one of his hands and Yuuri let him. He brought Yuuri’s hand to his lips and gently kissed it.

If this happened in reality, Yuuri probably would have fainted. Here, it felt so natural. Viktor looked up at Yuuri again. And for the first time, he spoke.

“Come dance with me.” Viktor looked at him, his eyes full of love.

Yuuri felt a little hesitant. Was he really to be given such a happiness? After everything that had happened? After what he had done to Viktor?

Viktor stood there smiling at him, waiting for him answer. Maybe after so long, he deserved a little happiness too. Hadn’t he suffered enough?

“Okay,” Yuuri said. And he stepped out onto the ice.

* * *

The news rocked the skating world. In the span of only a few months, not one but two skaters lost their lives. Everyone at practice was on their phones, reading about it. Only Yuri was out on the ice. He didn’t need to read it.

Apparently, after the other Yuuri’s death, his family had come forward and said that both he and Viktor had died from Hanahaki disease. The two fools were in love with each other at different times and it killed them both. That was why Yuuri and Viktor had both dropped out of skating.

A tribute to the two skaters was already being planned for after the Grand Prix final. Phichit Chulanont had a photo tribute to Yuuri on Instagram and it had hit a ridiculous number of likes and comments.

Of course, Yuri knew about Viktor and Yuuri’s diseases. After all, everyone at the rink knew about Viktor’s disease. He’d watched Viktor cough up a flower on the ice. He’d seen Yuuri cough up petals in the elevator. He’d known they’d been sick. He didn’t care. Of course he didn’t. It would be stupid to get upset now. Not so close to his first Grand Prix Final in the senior division.

After all, Yuuri had been the dumb one. He’d said he was going to have the surgery. Why didn’t he? Yuri didn’t understand why he’d choose to die.

“Everyone, back to practice,” Yakov shouted. The skaters complained as they put their phones away and got back out on the ice. Yakov’s yelling pulled him out of his thoughts. So long as he focused on skating, he wouldn’t think about Yuuri.

“They were like star-crossed lovers,” Mila said sadly.

“They were idiots,” Yuri replied, “If they’d had the surgery they could have continued skating. Instead of dying.”

“You’ve never been in love, Yuri,” Mila said, “If you ever fell in love, you’d know it’s not that easy.”

“You’ve never had Hanahaki either, hag,” Yuri snapped at her.

“Yuri, get back to work,” Yakov yelled, “You’re competing in the Grand Prix final in a few days.”

“Alright,” Yuri yelled back.

As he skated away from Mila, he knew she was wrong. He’d never be so stupid as to die for love.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that's the end. The next part is gonna take a bit longer to come out because it still needs editing. Hopefully that'll be next week but we'll have to see.  
> Thank you so much for reading. Please leave your last comments and kudos. I always appreciate them. Thank you.


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